Fernando Torres and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Season

Summary:

Exactly what it says in the title.

Notes:

With apologies to Judith Viorst, author of the brilliant original. All the credit goes to her, all the blame to me.

Work Text:

I ended last season with a really bad injury and now everyone's calling me chubby and the haircut that was supposed to make me look older made me look like a kid and by mistake I didn't score at all in the World Cup and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad season.

This season, at Arsenal they still have Arsene Wenger and at Manchester United they still have Sir Alex Ferguson, but at Liverpool all we have is Roy Hodgson.

I think I'll transfer to Barcelona.

In the first game against Arsenal Roy let Joe Cole have a place in the starting lineup. David Ngog and Milan Jovanovic got places in the starting lineup too. I said I was feeling better. I said I was feeling fine. I said, If I don't get to start playing how will I ever get back to match fitness. No one even answered.

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad season.

At national call-ups Coach del Bosque liked David Villa's scoring record better than my scoring record.

During warm ups he said I ran too slow. During five-on-five he said I forgot to pass to David. Who needs to pass to David?

I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad season.

I could tell because Sergio said I wasn't his best friend anymore. He said that Iker Casillas was his best friend and that Jesus Navas was his next best friend and that I was only his third best friend.

I hope you catch an STD, I said to Sergio. I hope the next time you get to the Champions' League final all your midfielders catch the flu and you lose eight to nothing to Barcelona.

At the World Cup Iker Casillas won the Golden Glove award and Jesus got everyone to like him cause he has pretty eyes and Sergio was highest ranked player in the Castrol Index. Guess who didn't even start regularly?

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad season.

That's what it was, because back in Liverpool Stevie took us all to see the medical staff and the club doctor found another hamstring strain just in me. Take next week's match off and it'll heal, said the club doctor.

Next week, I said, I'm transferring to Barcelona.

When Liverpool finally got sold we lost the derby to Everton and while we were waiting for NESV to hire a new manager we lost again to Spurs and then when I was depressed because we kept losing the Guardian wrote an article saying Pepe and I were going to leave and while I was saying that all I wanted was a good manager Stevie called me and scolded me for wanting to leave like Xabi Alonso.

I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad season, I told everybody. No one even answered.

So then we went to Nike to shoot a commercial for our new boots. Ryan chose red one with black stripes. Pepe chose red ones with white stripes. I chose white ones with red stripes but then the Nike man said, We can't make those. They made me take Cristiano Ronaldo leopard spotted pink ones, but they can't make me wear them.

When I phoned Olalla from Newcastle she said I had promised not to call her while I was grumpy, but I forgot. She also said not to talk about how hard the match was to someone who just went through labor for the second time and I was careful as could be except for the part about everything Roy did wrong. She also said don't talk about transferring but I think I mentioned Barcelona. Olalla said please don't call her after a match again until the children are grown up.

It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad season.

There was Manchester United at the top of the table and I hate Manchester United.

There was Real Madrid was on TV and I hate Real Madrid.

We almost got knocked out of the Europa League, we lost at home to Wolves, two of our matches were canceled because of snow, and I had to wear my yellow training jersey. I hate my yellow training jersey.

When I went back to Spain to visit all anyone wanted to talk about was Fernando Llorente and Atleti lost the Madrid derby three to nothing and I pulled my hamstring again.